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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142789">Call You When I Get Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madijo78/pseuds/Madijo78'>Madijo78</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cheating, Drinking, F/M, Party, Phones, based off song</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:22:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madijo78/pseuds/Madijo78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette goes out to follow her roommates' orders and comes back with more truth than what she expected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Call You When I Get Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I could barely see the road, as well as the wheel.  The rain came down in sheets of thick water, never stopping to pause so I could focus on the road. The tears filling my eyes and running down my face didn’t help with my vision at all. I could barely make out the ‘sharp turn’ signs reflecting from my lights, I swerved tightly trying to follow the white line as I couldn’t see the yellow line. I was on a windy road at one am, a mistake I called it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had been at a party, my two roommates had forced me to go, dressing me up in tight clothing and high heeled boots with my hair and makeup done. My hair felt stiff even if they hadn’t put any hair spray in. my makeup was simple, with mascara on my eyelashes and chapstick. Of course, anything to do with my hair or makeup was ruined from the pouring rain and my tears. They promised that we would leave together, I would be the designated driver since they wished to enjoy the effects of alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It was supposed to be a girl’s night out, where we would party and go home to watch movies. It was a night for me to spend time alone without my boyfriend. Adrien, his blonde hair felt soft in my hands, and his green eyes seemed like an endless forest. It’s been 2 years since he asked me out, and my schedule was filled with him, college, and working. A night out is what I needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> When both of them decided to tell me they were leaving with two different guys and wouldn’t be coming home, they placed the keys in my palm and left me vulnerable and pissed. Designated driver, my ass. I was the ‘drive the car home and do your own thing’ driver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I should have expected it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I walked through the house, maneuvering the house and blocks of people like a maze, bumping into sweaty people and brushing off their complaints. Cheap beer splashed onto me, I was in too much of a hurry to care. They seemed to be in their own little world. The freshly painted walls had already been ruined by spray paint, reading, ‘cock.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door frames were busted, possibly from boys trying to do pull-ups and breaking the wood. It was going to be destroyed by the end of the night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> I pushed past two boys, their hair slicked back, wearing blue button-downs and black jeans. I ignored their cat calls behind me, knowing it wouldn’t deflate their ego, but to get me out quicker. Men were gentlemen, who knew how to treat a woman properly in public and in the sheets. Boys, like male college students, were the ones who hadn’t grown up yet, and children were boys who were too far gone. They were the class clowns of a highschool class. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most male college students were boys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly I found my prize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was already opened, letting the cool night air filtering into the humid room of body heat, and I walked out passing groups of girls ready to party. Boys, well college students, followed like flies to food. The rain was sprinkling down, a light mist, but even through the dark, I could see the clouds moving fast, the wind whipping my hair around my face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I walked down the concrete walk leading to the road, pulling the strands of hair out of my chapstick, and did a double-take on the couple that caught my eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I should have expected it. The sudden betrayal. The idea that college boys don’t like to be tied down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What I didnt expect was to see my boyfriend of 2 years making out with a blonde who wore clothing that barely covered her body. I could disgustingly make out the outline of the pink panties, and the pink lace bra under the sheer white shirt she wore. His hands were under her small black leather shirt. He didnt seem to want to stop her, as he was sporting a hard-on himself. Her hands were tangled in his hair, pulling slightly. She could see me out of the corner of her eye, breaking off from his lips to tell me to, “move along.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien turned around, pulling himself away for a second to see who she was talking to. Recognition in his eyes, he quickly ripped her off of him, turning his body completely away from her. She complained, her high pitch voice rang above the booming music and he ignored her and made his way to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette, it isn’t what it looks like,” he claimed, walking closer with his hands out as if I would touch him. The rain was coming down now, making Adrien’s blue shirt darken and my black shirt remain still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I stood there long enough to see what it looks like, and it looks like you’re a cheating bastard and a liar at that,” I said, seething and sick to my stomach. My hands shook with rage, willing to hit something or cry. Maybe i shouldn’t have expected more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was nothing, I love you, Marinette,” he cried. He grabbed my arm after getting closer and I ripped it from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t love me, and I hope that you catch whatever she has,” I yelled. I started for the car, keeping the keys in my hands, and ignored his calls from behind me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” Adrien asked. He had caught up to me quicker than I thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home, you know the place that you won’t ever be returning,” I opened the door and tried to get in, his hands on my shoulder stopping me. Despite the pouring rain, his grip wasn’t slippery. I pulled my arm back roughly, the pain of my skin being pulled making my stomach sick, and balled my fists and I striking and hitting his nose with all my strength. I found small relief some hearing his cries and moans, complaining about his nose being broken. I also found relief in hearing it crunch, knowing he wouldn’t take enough care to let it heal properly. Despite my throbbing hand, painful tingles running up my fingers and wrist, I felt giddy for the payback. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t touch me, and I would say go back to the blonde but she seems to have already found her new prey,” I motioned to the blonde who found herself a small, buzz-cut boy in a bright pink polo shirt. She looked to have herself wrapped around him, her legs crossed behind him, and deep in a session. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien groaned again and I laughed, hopping into the car and driving off.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My laughing became hysterical and soon turned into sickening tears that soaked my clothes. The rain was coming down harder, and I hadn’t realized that the windows had been down, adding to the extra water, and I quickly rolled them up. The GPS on my phone wasn’t working, my data had run out and I didn’t want to pay extra for unlimited. I was a broke college student. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sign up ahead brightened when my lights hit it reading, “narrow road.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, just what I need, backroads while raining,” I thought. I couldn’t get my emotions under control, my chest felt empty and my legs wanted to be jelly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t drive originally, my roommate, Alya, with her teased brown hair, and manicured fingers, knowing the way off her head. She had been there frequently, she was the party type and enjoyed the rush. Rose, with her pixie cut hai dyed pink and her girly attire, followed Alya as if she was a student learning from the teacher. Alya loved the opportunity to teach someone the ways of life, the ways of being a girl in college. She had tried to teach me, but I wasn’t the type.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried to remember the backroads she had taken, to avoid the other traffic, Alya said, but with my buzzing phone I couldn’t concentrate. I looked quickly, trying to keep my eyes on the disappearing road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Adrien. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Im sorry, talk to me.” he typed, among other desperate messages and failed call attempts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t want his attention anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanted to ignore it, but the desire to get the last word in was stronger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I slowed my speed, holding my phone up to see both the road and the phone, typing, “ill call you when I get home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Personally, I wasn’t going to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to know what it was like to wait for someone to respond for hours, feeling unworthy. The nights I waited for him to respond because he was ‘studying’ yet somehow with all that studying, he was still failing all of his classes. The nights when he would leave randomly to ‘go for a run at two in the morning. The looks I got from girls as if to say ‘we know something you don’t.’  I didn’t keep it past him that he probably had a new girl on his arm. Maybe he was in the bathroom getting it on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought disgusted me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I really liked this child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kept my eyes off the road for a second to throw my phone in the cupholder near the console. A sickening feeling settled in my stomach, and it suddenly jumped back into my throat when the road suddenly turned. I swerved, not catching the road in time, and flipped into the deep ditch lining the road the sounds of glass crunching, and the car bending was too loud for the sudden pain that erupted in my chest. My head was thrown around, I could feel the ache building from the whiplash, my skull collided with the driver’s side window. It hit twice before sensing warmth on my clothes, blood. A piece of glass had pierced my lung, making it hard to breathe. I could feel the rain on my face, the pain from the glass was nothing to my heart. The taste of metal covered my tongue, it was coming from the cuts on my head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was fading, slowly, I found. It felt like hours, and I realized, I really wouldn’t be calling. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>warning: please do not text and drive, or even talk on the phone and drive. I have seen more older women and men on their phones than teenagers, but that doesn't mean that it isn't just as harmful. also if you cannot see the road when it is raining, or even the white line, pull over and wait. I've seen people drive stupid in a drizzle. </p><p>again I wrote this in my 4th block class. the song is "call you when I get home" by Santino de saint. he is literally amazing. of course, this is going to be revised but I thought I might put this here for some small enjoyment or resentment, your tastes are different.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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